JON ARBUCKLE IS HORRIBLE
by MYHEARTFEELSDEADINSIDE
Summary: JON ARBUCKLE IS HORRIBLE


**JON ARBUCKLE IS HORRIBLE.**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I AM LITERAL SHIT. THIS IS WHY YOU MUST ALWAYS FLUSH. OTHERWISE I WILL CRAWL OUT. THAT IS HOW I WAS BORN.  
LEAVE REVIEWS ON MY FANFICTIONS. GOOD/BAD, ANY ARE ACCEPTABLE.

* * *

Good evening, fellow people. It is I, Garfield. I am here to document the atrocities my horrible owner, Jon Arbuckle, goes about on a daily basis. Let us start with this morning.

I was sleeping in my box bed thing when suddenly that monster entered the room interrupting my sleep. He called me a "bitch" and exited. I was in shock. Why would he just enter, casually toss a hurtful insult my direction, and then exit like nothing had happened? Why would a lonely man in his thirties do such a thing to their cat?

And then it hit me.

No, seriously. Jon Arbuckle fucking hit me with his shoe. He returned carrying his shoes, and he was angry that I still didn't get out of my bed. Fuck that shit. I covered myself with my blanket.

"YOU ARE FUCKING LAZY!" Jon yelled, harming my sensitive ears with his loud voice. "YOU ARE WORTHLESS AND SCUM!" He continued, "YOU ARE A WASTE OF LIFE."

I covered my head with my blanket to drown out his angry upsetting shouts. He's randomly firing again, I groaned. Jon tossed his other shoe at me and it hurt my head.

That's it. I'm not tolerating his shit any longer. I'm sick of him constantly throwing tantrums. I grabbed my box bed and began whacking Jon over the head. "YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?" I shouted. He ran out the room screaming that I have rabies.

I followed after Jon only to find him in the next room with his face flat on a table and covered with white powder. He lifted his head and grinned at me. "I'M ON FUCKING CRACK!" He screeched. "WANT TO FUCK?!"

I extended my claws towards the repulsive sick man and responded with "Don't touch me."

* * *

Five hours later, after having to endure Jon's obnoxious drug session, he spoke about his terrible plans to shove his genitals into the mailman while he wasn't looking. I was unsure what to say.

In fact, I was so busy trying to figure out how even to react to such a ghastly statement that Jon was already by the front door waiting for the mailman to reach it.

I quickly ran over towards a window and opened it to alert the mailman about Jon's disgusting plans, but instead I was greeted by the mailman smirking at me. "Not this time, cat!" He sneered as he shoved the mail into my face. "Better luck next time!"

The mail gave me a few paper cuts on my nose and I fell onto the floor writhing in agony as the pain shot through my skull. My nose! My fucking nose! One of the most sensitive areas of my body. I fucking hate paper cuts. That fucking bastard.

Suddenly I heard a scream from outside. "NO! GET YOUR FUCKING DICK OUT OF MY ASS, YOU SICK FUCK!"

I cried, "NOOOOOOOO!" for it was too late. Jon had already nabbed another victim. That fucking monster.

I managed to gather the strength to sit up and head to the bathroom to nurse my wounds, and while I did, I cringed at the thought as to whatever else may be occurring outside. I heard nothing but screaming.

* * *

Hours later, after the sharp pangs of the paper cuts went away, I decided to relax with some television. I walked over to the armchair sitting perfectly in front of the TV, and plopped myself down onto its warm inviting cushion. The remote was lodged between the cushion. I yanked it out and activated the television to begin channel surfing.

" _HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY KIDS!_ " Bellowed Binky the clown. Boy, what a weirdo. The token freak. Enough to cause anybody a heart attack from just looking at him up close. Though Jon's antics are much more horrifying than Binky. Compared to Jon, the clown is nothing more than- _ **CRASH!**_

What?! What! Where did that dreadful noise come from? It interrupted my train of thought. It triggered a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Suddenly the lights went out. I couldn't see a thing. I never understood that. Aren't cats nocturnal? Why are my eyes like a humans? Come to think of it, I'm capable of eating foods only humans can, and-

" _Garfieeeeld_." Interrupted Jon, with a creaky voice that sent shivers down my spine. Worst yet, he was sharpening a knife. "Get over _heeeeere, FUCKER._ "

I've got to get out of here.

Moonlight shone through a window nearby the chair. I ran over, opened the window, and jumped out.

They say cats always land on their feet. Not me however.

I fell onto my ankle and nearly sprained it. I could feel my own weight crushing myself. Despite the pain, I hastily stood up and began running as fast as I could away from the house. I did not dare look back, but I could still hear Jon Arbuckle shouting my name while sharpening a knife from within the house as I vanished into the night.

TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
